Long Way Home
by Helen C
Summary: A series of four unrelated, AU ficlets, exploring possible ways for the Fleet to find Earth with unfortunate results, most times. In other words, four ways the show won't deal with that particular storyline.
1. Part 1

**Title** : Long Way Home

**Author** : Helen C.

**Rating **: PG

**Summary** : A series of four unrelated, AU ficlets, exploring possible ways for the Fleet to find Earth (with unfortunate results, most times). In other words, four ways the show won't deal with that particular storyline.

**Spoilers** : Everything aired so far is fair game.

**Disclaimer** : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**AN**. Many thanks to mick1997 for beta'ing this! As usual, I tinkered before posting; all remaining mistakes are mine. 

* * *

**Long Way Home**

Helen C.

Part One

1.

It takes the Fleet six years to find Earth.

Six years of dodging the Cylons, then watching them destroy themselves, torn apart in a civil war. From what they can learn, the Cylons are split between two factions; one that regrets the near-extinction of the human race and now claims that nothing in their religion actually condones genocide (too bad that frakking epiphany didn't come sooner) and one that argues that anyone who doesn't worship their god must die and that humans should be hunted down and killed to the last one.

The humans try to keep out of the crossfire, try to preserve whatever few resources they have left, and survive the Cylons' fall.

"Their agony is a lot more drawn out than the one of the Colonies," Hotdog observes during a triad game in the rec room, a few months after Kara's death. Lee resists pointing out that the agony of the human race is still ongoing, but from the faces of the pilots around him, he's not the only one who thinks that way.

The Colonies fell heartbreakingly easily, but years later, the survivors are still struggling for supplies, for food, for fuel, for survival.

Lee wonders how many people are still hoping that Earth will hold the key to their salvation. He knows most of their dreams of the first hour are probably unrealistic, though. Even if Earth does exist, there's no guarantee that their long lost relatives will accept them with open arms.

Actually, the way their luck is going, it's pretty likely that whatever can go wrong, _will_ go wrong.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

2.

When the Fleet reaches Earth, it's not apotheosis, fireworks, and happily ever after.

The humans are exhausted, trying to deal with grief and survivor's guilt, licking their wounds and unable to look past the next day. They've been in survival mode for so long that Lee wonders how many of them will ever be able to fit into a civilization again. How could they ever have faith in the future, when theirs was so horribly destroyed once already?

They don't have much to offer to the long lost Thirteenth Tribe, but Lee doesn't think it would have made a difference. The Earthers don't want anything from them; they're too scared for that.

No one expected to find a planet that hadn't had any contact with outsiders for as long as their history goes back. No one expected that the Earthers had forgotten where they came from. If they had known…

Well, if they had known, they would have still come here. They needed somewhere to go, and this was their only plan, their only chance at escaping the Cylons, their only chance to find somewhere to live.

They needed hope, they needed to believe that their journey had a goal and that when they reached it, their struggle would finally be over.

As it turns out, their luck (or lack thereof) holds true.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee spends his first weeks on Earth in a military prison, along with all the other officers who came down with the civilians, being "debriefed" by Earth's military.

The Earthers are mostly civil in that they don't beat him to a pulp or otherwise inflict any pain to get him to talk. They draw a lot of blood in the first few days, make him spend hours under a scanning device that looks more sophisticated than anything Lee ever saw on the Colonies, test his reflexes and his strength, but look more astonished than alarmed by whatever they find.

In the days after that, they don't allow him to sleep for more than half an hour in a stretch, and they don't feed him much—a well known tactic to break a prisoner's defenses. Lee feels weak and sick but it doesn't matter that he's not on top of his game. He can answer truthfully most of the questions they ask.

No, the survivors of the Colonies are not here to fight or destroy Earth. No, they're not here to invade it either. They just want some place to live again, to try to save what little of their civilization still remains—if there's still time for that. No, they've never met any life form other than humans (and Cylons, but the Earthers don't have to worry about them anymore, and Lee makes sure to say so as often as possible).

After some indeterminate time, Lee is allowed into a shower and given some clothes to wear—something orange, looking a lot like the deck crew coveralls. He's given some food, then led away to an outside expanse. He breathes in deeply, raises his head to the sun, enjoying the feeling of warmth against his skin. The soldiers escorting him don't say anything and Lee starts walking again before they lose patience and urge him forward. It's a small way to feel in control, but it's all he has and he treasures it.

They allow him roughly half an hour outside before leading him back to his room. Lee doesn't see anyone from the Fleet, but he walks by lots of closed doors. For all he knows, the others are waiting for their own guards behind these doors, and the thought of his father being locked up makes his heart beat faster, either in shock or in fear. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee doesn't have any way to keep track of time. His guards allow him outside at irregular intervals and he's pretty sure he's fed at different times every day, to keep him disoriented.

Every day, Earthers come by, ask him the same questions over and over again, then leave him alone until the next session. Sometimes, they do the good-cop, bad-cop thing he and Starbuck used to be so good at, and he has to fight a smile at the bittersweet memories it brings back. Sometimes, they inject him with something that makes him loopy and makes it hard for him to focus. When their shapes are blurred and an annoying buzzing muffles their voices, they interrogate him again, and Lee falls back on a training he had thought long forgotten, giving only vague and misleading answers, keeping his replies short and to-the-point. 

He's pretty sure it has been several weeks—three at least, five at most, by his admittedly imprecise estimation—when he's given blue pants and shirt and a white T-shirt, and told to shower and dress. Then, his guards lead him away from his room.

Lee follows them without protest. At the beginning, he tried to engage them in conversation, but none of them ever replied and Lee stopped trying after a while.

They step out of the complex and walk for about five minutes, to a vast expanse of concrete. There's a plane sitting on a take-off runway. Technologically, the Earthers seem a good decade ahead of the Colonies, but from what the Fleet gathered when they first made contact, their space traveling abilities are limited to the point of being almost nonexistent. He's not quite sure what to make of that, but he thinks that at least, it should make things easier when they get the hell out of here.

The guards gesture at him to climb in the plane and Lee starts at the familiar faces aboard—Dee and his father, Tyrol, Gunny Mathias, Showboat, Narco, Skulls and Seelix. It seems the Earthers were very efficient in keeping only the relatively high level military personnel here.

Dee's eyes are too bright and his father breathes in heavily when he sees Lee but no one says a word.

Lee smiles at them all shakily (it's not that he thought the Earthers had hurt them, but it's sill nice to see familiar faces after weeks of being interrogated by a bunch of strangers) and sits down on an uncomfortable seat.

He doesn't dare go to any of them with the Earthers looking on, not knowing how they would take that. The family reunion will have to wait.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They fly for five hours, then are piled up in a military truck and driven to a camp. It looks a little like New Caprica, Lee notices at once. Tents, civilians gathered in small groups, everyone wearing the same clothes he does.

Fences all around and guards patrolling the perimeter, holding their weapons in an obvious way.

Anders walks to them and nods. "Good to see you guys. We were starting to get worried."

Lee's father acknowledges the unspoken, "Glad you're okay," with a terse nod. Lee feels his ex-wife's hand slide into his own and gives it a small, reassuring squeeze.

Anders looks at them and gestures behind him. "Laura's this way."

Everyone steers clear as they make their way to the tent. As soon as they're inside, Lee turns to his father, who hugs him fiercely, asking, "Are you all right?" 

Lee is tired beyond measure and can't quite swallow the bitter taste of their welcome here, but he nods. All in all, things could be much worse. "Yeah." He blindly reaches out in Dee's direction and feels her fingers close around his again.

After a while, his father releases him and they turn to face Laura, who stares at them, eyes bright. "Gentlemen," she says, "Lieutenant. Let's take a look around."

The four of them slowly walk around the camp, the civilians staying away from them. Lee nods to a few familiar faces, relieved that everyone seems to be in one piece, if dangerously subdued.

"We're not sure our conversations aren't monitored," Laura says casually, the warning clear. They don't talk about the ships they left behind, in case anything turned wrong. They don't talk about the skeleton crew on the Galactica, hidden only a jump away, or about Tigh and his standing orders to wait for word that everything is fine and that the Earthers can be trusted before coming. Lee knows that when nothing comes, Tigh will wait for as long as needed, keeping a Raptor in radio reach to check for contact. Six years on the run have left their mark. Even after the first contact with Earth went fine—if reserved on the Earthers' part—they wanted to have a backup plan. 

Most of the civilians wanted to come immediately, desperate for some fresh air after the years spent in overcrowded ships. They only took what military forces were necessary, however. Enough that the Earthers wouldn't suspect they had left anyone behind, not enough that the Galactica wouldn't be able to rescue them.

This isn't how any of them imagined Earth would be, but they didn't imagine that the Cylons would blow the Colonies to ashes either.

They adapted then, they'll adapt now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

3.

"This is like New Caprica," Anders tells Lee. They're discretely studying the movements of the guards on the other side of the fence, taking note of the way they cover the perimeter, what kinds of weapons they have, how many of them there are at any given time. "Except on New Caprica, we knew the enemy," Anders adds.

Lee nods. In the end, what do they know about the Earthers? Aside from their technological level, and the fact that they've lived isolated on this planted since as long as their recorded history goes, not much.

If they had known then, maybe the survivors of the Colonies wouldn't have fought so hard to get away from the Cylons' clutches. It's not that the descendants of the Thirteenth Tribe are needlessly brutal or cruel; it's just that the humans didn't fight so hard to get here, only to end up living in a cage.

Anders hesitates for a moment before asking, "How's your father?" The worry in his voice is undeniable. Since Kara's death, during one of the last battles against the Cylons, he has grown a lot closer to both Lee and his father—the only family Kara had left, aside from him. "Lee?" They don't use ranks anymore. They're all civilians here—not military officers, not politicians officially appointed by the people. Just refugees. Prisoners.

"I don't know," Lee says, trying to pretend he's not scared. His father caught a bad cold a couple of weeks ago and the cold turned into pneumonia alarmingly quickly. The Earthers took him away, saying they would take care of him. Lee would have protested, if he had thought there was a frakking thing he could have done. "They won't say."

He never liked feeling powerless, never liked being out of control, and the situation is slowly driving him mad. If it was only up to him, he'd take up arms right now and try to make a run for it. It's probably a good thing that it's not his decision to make, too, because the attempt would almost certainly get him killed.

When they escape, they'll do it together. Laura made that clear, as did his father.

Anders doesn't offer him empty reassurances, the way everyone else does. Instead, he looks around. "You think they're going to leave us here long?"

Lee thinks that by now—eight months after the officers arrived at the camp—it must be clear that they're nothing but a harmless bunch of refugees. If the Earthers had planned on letting them roam the planet free, they'd have done so already.

"I don't know."

Anders nods in understanding and falls silent. Together, they resume their observations. Surely, they'll be able to spot a weakness eventually.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee's father is brought back to the camp eventually, ten ponds underweight, his hair gone completely gray. Two Earthers support most of his weight, waiting near the entrance of the camp, and Lee walks to them, peripherally aware that all activity has stopped around him. It seems that everyone is frozen in place, watching the scene unfold.

He knows there are guns pointed at him, too, and he'll need to talk to Anders about that later, because for the first time, he has the feeling that the Earthers are doing it mostly out of habit instead of because they expect trouble.

"Dad," Lee calls when he's close enough.

His father offers him a tired smile. "Lee." He coughs briefly, shrugs off the help of his two guards and takes a step to Lee. Then another, and another. Lee doesn't move, allowing his father to reach him at his own pace, then puts an arm around his waist, helping him to his tent.

He can hear the slight wheezing in his father's breathing as they walk, he can see the people watching them as they approach the tent, but he doesn't care about any of that.

He hadn't wanted to admit, even to himself, how scared he was that his father wouldn't come back, that he would die alone in a medical facility, surrounded by strangers on an unknown planet that was supposed to become their home.

Unsurprisingly, Laura is waiting for them, and she helps Lee guide his father to the bed.

"Good to see you, Bill," she says, her tone warm. She shoots an alarmed look at Lee, who ignores her.

"Good to be back," Bill replies. "I suppose." He reaches out and clasps Lee's hand. "Looks like you're in charge, now," he says.

Lee wants to protest so very badly, wants to say that maybe Cottle will be able to do something once they get back to the Fleet, but then he sees the way his father's hands are shaking, the way he's already lying back on the bed, exhausted, and the words stay stuck in this throat.

"If you wanted to retire, Bill, all you had to do was ask," Laura says, her eyes too bright.

Lee and his father chuckle at the same time, more loudly than the joke deserves, then Lee says, "We'll let you rest."

His father grunts softly, already half asleep. Lee and Laura step out in the sun without a word. There's no one around and Lee is grateful for the relative privacy.

"He'll get better," Laura says, patting his back gently.

Lee nods, not trusting his voice.

She adds conversationally, "In two months, it will be Colonial Day already." She adds under her breath, so softly he barely hears it, "Captain Apollo."

He looks up at the sky. They're not going to get several chances. If there isn't a Raptor up there, if there isn't a rescue mission already planned by Tigh and Helo, they won't stand a chance. On the other hand, they've waited long enough. More data gathering won't teach them anything they don't know about the Earthers procedures and means of defense. They're as ready as they'll ever be, and it's possible that the Earthers are finally letting their guard down a little.

"I know," he says. He whispers, only for her, "Madam President."

Anders is watching them and steps closer when Lee nods at him. "Your father?" he asks.

"He'll survive. He'll be fine," Lee says, because he needs to say it out loud if he wants to believe it. "Did you watch the guards when I went to him?"

Anders nods, a grim half smile on his face.

"Let's talk, then," Lee says.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

4.

The Earthers have grown complacent with the months, as it became clear that their visitors weren't going to rebel.

They don't expect the attack, and they sure as hell don't expect everyone, including the civilians (some of whom were in the resistance, some of whom just don't like their cage anymore than the military does), to take part in it.

It happens fast and it's easier to steal the weapons from the guards who bring in the food than Lee thought it would be. By the time any of the high-ranking Earthers stationed here have the chance to understand what's happening, it's too late for them to ask for reinforcements.

Fifteen minutes after the first punch was thrown, Lee finds himself in the command center, facing a terrified-looking kid who can't be more than twenty and who didn't even think of raising his gun when Lee pointed a rifle at him. 

"Please," the kid says. "I've got a son."

Lee looks at him coldly. "We need a radio."

He spots a movement from the corner of his eye. The Chief. Good.

The kid points to a door behind Lee. "In there," he says, then gulps. Lee knows that part of the building was secured by Anders. 

He nods at the kid to walk there, keeping his gun trained at his head. As soon as they're in, the Chief sets to work on the equipment while Lee ties the kid's hands behind his back.

"Tyrol to Galactica," the Chief calls. "Is there anyone up there?"

The only answer he gets is static. He shrugs when Lee looks at him. "It might take a while."

Lee nods and gets back to the main control room of the center. There are cameras recording everything that happens in the camp, and he can see that the prisoners have overpowered their guards relatively easily. They probably don't have much time until more troops arrive, but hopefully, they'll be gone by then.

And if they're not… Well, he wouldn't mind dying in the attempt, rather than settling in this prison, watching his father die, and depending on his guards to feed him for the rest of his life.

It takes Tyrol fourteen minutes to make contact. When he yells, Lee runs back into the room, Anders on his heels, just in time to hear Hotdog's voice through the speakers. "Chief, good to hear your voice."

"Likewise," the Chief says, a little choked up.

Lee walks to the transmitter, relief and adrenaline making him dizzy. "Hotdog, we need the Raptors and the Vipers down here, and the shuttles to evacuate. We don't know what they did with the ships we came down with, so let's assume they're lost."

Thankfully, those ships weren't armed, so that's not something the Earthers will be able to use against them.

"Will do, sir," Hotdog says, and Lee releases a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Looks like Tigh learned from New Caprica and kept his men ready to fight at a moment's notice. "ETA 30 minutes," Hotdog adds.

Lee looks at the kid they captured and kneels next to him. His superior officers are still alive, under guard in another part of the building, but the kid doesn't have to know that. "We're going to leave, and you'll never hear from us again," he says. He sees the kid's disbelieving eyes and he motions to the Chief behind him. "See that man? He has a kid too. And I'm sure he'd like to see him growing up free, instead of locked up in a camp in the middle of nowhere."

The kid looks away as Lee adds, "We need some place for our friends to come get us." He aims the gun at the kid's knee. "We could look by ourselves, but we don't have that kind of time."

The kid whimpers when Lee pulls the gun's safety. "Please," he says.

"I'm not asking much," Lee replies. "Tell me."

The kid looks around at Tyrol and Anders, and pales at what he sees. "There's a clearing, three miles up north."

"Right," Anders snorts before Lee can react. "The one where the choppers deliver the food you bring to us? Not good enough. It's guarded, I take it?"

The kid pales, stammers, "I… I'm sorry, I, I didn't think about that, I—"

Lee isn't far from feeling sorry for him, but they don't have time for this. "Think harder," he snaps.

"East," the kid says. "There's a road, it's in the open, but—"

"The road they used when they drove us here?" Lee asks.

The kid nods fearfully.

Lee shoots a look at Anders. Not great, exposed and a frakking tight fit for the shuttles to land and embark the civilians, but it doesn't look like they'll get anything better. He rises to his feet. "I'm taking a few men and checking the place," he tells the Chief and Anders. "Give the coordinates to Hotdog, tell him not to land anything there until we give him the all clear."

They nod and get to it as Lee drags the kid out. "Let's go trekking."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee boards the last Raptor to leave the planet. He can see the battle raging in the sky above him, the Vipers against the Earthers' flight defense, and spares a thought for the pilots who will die today, so they can escape. He just hopes the final body count will be smaller than it was on New Caprica.

He watches the pilots as the Raptor takes off—Athena and Helo, focused on avoiding incoming missiles and debris from the battle.

He hadn't realized how much he missed flying, had tried not to think about never climbing into a Viper or a Raptor again. Now that he's in the air, it's all he can do to remain in his seat instead of rushing to Helo, dragging him out of his chair and taking his place. The fierceness of the feeling surprises him.

"I missed it too," Showboat says from her seat next to him.

Helo turns to them before he can reply. "We're clear, Apollo," he says. "Galactica just called the Vipers back."

Lee nods at him gratefully, gets to his feet and walks to the cockpit. The Galactica is looming above them; he smiles at the sight of the Bucket, still flying, and thinks that as long as she is, there's hope.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

5.

"Now what?" he asks Laura. They're sitting in his father's office, with Tigh and his father, Anders, Helo and Dee.

She sighs. "I don't know."

His father speaks up, his voice stronger than it has been since he came back to the camp after the pneumonia. "We don't have much choice."

Lee nods in acknowledgement. "We keep looking for a planet."

He doesn't say that they could jump blindly from one place to another for generations without finding a habitable planet. What else can they do? Go back to the Colonies, or to New Caprica? The Cylons are all but extinct, but there are some left. Besides, the Colonies suffered a nuclear attack and there isn't enough radiation medication to sustain them all, and New Caprica tastes too much like poison to all of them.

So they keep looking and if they never find a planet… well.

"The Fleet has been our home for so long," Laura says, echoing Lee's thoughts. Most people won't accept spending their lives, raising their kids and dying in tin cans floating in space, but Lee is starting to think that maybe, the journey will be more rewarding than their goal, whatever it ends up being.

And after all, with Earth out of their reach for good, the journey is all they have left.

* * *

end 


	2. Part 2

**Title** : Long Way Home

**Author** : Helen C.

**Rating **: PG

**Summary** : A series of four unrelated, AU ficlets, exploring possible ways for the Fleet to find Earth (with unfortunate results, most times). In other words, four ways the show won't deal with that particular storyline.

**Spoilers** : Everything aired so far is fair game.

**Disclaimer** : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**AN**. Many thanks to mick1997 for beta'ing this! As usual, I tinkered before posting; all remaining mistakes are mine. 

* * *

**Long Way Home**

Helen C.

Part Two

They reach Earth half an hour too late.

When they make the jump according to Kara's coordinates (after weeks of testing and questioning her to ensure that she's not the enemy, after weeks of asking her who or what she is and getting for an answer, "I don't know how I came back, I just did, frak it!"), the Cylons are already busy bombing the planet to ashes.

There isn't enough time to swallow the bitter taste of deja-vu. As soon as the DRADIS picks up the basestars, alarms start blaring in the ship, like they did on so many other occasions. Everyone seems edgy, angry and resigned at the same time.

If they lose Earth…

Lee shakes the thought as he climbs into his Viper.

They don't have time for this. They don't have time to think about anything but defending the planet, they don't have time to think about anything but shooting down Cylons.

Lee can picture the CIC bustling with activity, Gaeta calculating coordinates for another jump, his father gritting his teeth and doing what needs to be done, Tigh at his side.

The Vipers are ordered to launch, but even before they're clear of the Galactica, all the pilots know they won't win. There are four basestars out there, and apparently, the people of Earth are not able to defend themselves against the Cylon's assault.

Lee tries not to let it get to him that once again, they're getting their asses kicked, that once again, they're going to lose hope and shelter and everything to these machines. The only thing they can do is try anyway, so that's what they all set out to do.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Most of the fight is a blur. All the pilots have been through this before, so many times that avoiding missiles and shooting back has become second nature. It may be the only thing most of them know how to do, but damn, they do it well.

It should probably worry Lee that his pilots don't even need to think anymore, the reflexes drilled into them by too many years of war.

Once upon a time, back when they still had a civilization to fall back to, most of them would have been discharged and sent back to civilian life, and would have been allowed some time to grieve, to deal with various forms of self-destructive behaviors and PTSD. He wonders whether or not they would have adapted to that. He knows enough about the previous Cylon war to know that all the veterans didn't become well-adjusted members of society after the end of the hostilities—far from it.

Mostly, he's pissed as hell that he'll never get to know, because that will never, ever happen. The Cylons are winning, and once again, the military is going to be kicked back, and they'll keep on fighting, again and again, to the last one. And when there are no pilots left, when the Galactica is destroyed, when no one is left to protect the civilians… well, that will be the end of that.

Helo's voice, loud in his ears, snaps him out of his thoughts. "Apollo, bank right, now!"

He does, without thinking, and an explosion briefly blinds him as his bird shakes so hard that he thinks it's going to fall apart.

Then, everything gets silent. He opens his eyes—when did he close them?—vaguely surprised that his Viper is still in one piece, solid all around him.

"…you read me?" he hears.

The familiar voice startles him. "Kara?"

"The one and only," she says, her tone insufferably cocky. "How the frak did you survive without me to cover your pretty ass anyway?"

He gasps out a laugh, relieved beyond measure that she's here. "Go figure," he says, automatically checking the status of his Viper.

"Apollo, Actual. What's… How are you?"

There's an undercurrent of worry in his father's voice and Lee carefully stores the memory away for later, when he has time to think about what it means—later, when they're not involved in the worst battle this side of the fall of the Colonies. "I'm good," he says, matter-of-factly. _Ready to fight_, he almost adds, but keeps it to himself.

Kara's voice, grim and confident, sounds loud and clear over the comm.. "Then, let's get to work."

They do.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They put up one hell of a fight, but in the end, it's no use.

_It happened before and it will happen again_, Lee thinks as he lands. He gives CIC the all-clear for the jump and sits in his cockpit for a few minutes, his mind blank.

When he climbs out of his Viper, dizzy, his ears still buzzing from all the frantic shouting over the comm., all he sees around him are pale, shocked faces. Cally is crying. Racetrack is sitting on the ground next to her Raptor, Helo hovering near her. Athena looks uncomfortable; she's probably expecting the backlash for this. Whenever they lose pilots, as they did today (their names come to Lee's mind before he can stomp the memory down. Hotdog. Skull. Seelix. Narco. Hiccup.), Athena can be sure to hear many heated comments heading her way.

Lee never tried to stop it, as he would have if it had been any other pilot suffering from being shunned.

He hates her.

It's not something he explores often, he doesn't like feeling that way, but all he can see when he looks at her is his father bleeding to death in his arms, reduced to a victim.

All he can see when he looks at her is a Cylon, the enemy. That she worked to earn the trust of everyone on board, including his own, doesn't matter. That she's not technically the same Sharon who shot his father doesn't matter.

She wears the face of the woman who almost killed his father, and he can't get past it. He never tried very hard to.

Everyone is looking in his direction and he tries to gather himself. He should say something, he should find the right words to make everyone feel better. He should tell them that they'll survive, that they'll find another suitable planet, that they'll make it, but what would be the point?

They lost more today than they did when the Colonies fell.

Part of him is almost curious to see how his father will spin this, how he'll find a way to make them all go on. Will he find another goal for the Fleet to reach?

Lee blinks in the harsh light of the deck, watches all the pale, drawn faces, and grits his teeth. If he opens his mouth, he's going to start screaming. Or worse, he'll say what he thinks—that the situation is hopeless, that they're frakked in every possible way, that there's no way out, that they fought for nothing.

That the Cylons will have to die to the last one before the humans can find peace.

That he's sick as hell of all this, and that Kara shouldn't have saved his life earlier today. That maybe they should all have just laid their arms down and allowed the Cylons to shoot them out of the sky.

Jaws clenched so hard it hurts, he turns and heads out, his steps echoing in the stunned silence. He can hear a few broken sobs here and there, quickly muffled. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kara take a step to follow him, then stop. He feels eyes on his back as he leaves, and he just can't bring himself to care that he's not behaving like an officer, that he's allowing them all to see his anger and his bitterness. For once, he doesn't give a flying frak about professionalism or appropriate conduct.

The only thing he cares about is finding a way to vent his grief before it consumes him.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One hour later, his father finds him in the gym, pounding the hell out of a punching bag. Helo and Kara have both dropped by and left him alone to his anger after their questions only drew a few monosyllabic answers out of him. Everyone but his father and Kara knows to leave him alone when he's like this, and even Kara didn't take the risk of getting slugged today.

Who said Starbuck was idiotically insane and reckless?

"Are you all right?" his father asks, his tone giving nothing away.

Lee keeps hitting the bag, grunting. His clothes are clinging to his sweaty skin, his hands are bleeding over the bag, leaving bloody imprints every time his fists collide with the fabric. He's pretty sure he dislocated two fingers but he still keeps hitting. The pain is good. The pain reminds him that he's alive, the pain fuels his anger, and anger is better than despair or grief.

"Lee," his father starts. Then, he stops. Some part of Lee wonders what his father will say now. That maybe those who died were the lucky ones? That as long as there's life, there's hope? That they did all they could? That in the end, they fought well—even if it was all for nothing? "Wanna hit something that can hit back?" his father eventually asks.

That surprises Lee and makes him stop long enough to look at his father, assess the offer, and nod. He's ready to drop and he won't even last five minutes, but that doesn't worry him in the least.

His father eyes the gloves hanging on the wall, smiles wryly, shrugs. "What the hell?" he says, clenching his fists without even bothering to wrap them (not that Lee is one to talk).

_Maybe four minutes_, Lee thinks as he leaves the punching bag and faces his father.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He actually lasts six minutes and if he wasn't so wiped, maybe he would enjoy the surprise and grudging respect on his old man's face. As it is, it's all he can do to remain standing on his shaking legs. 

"Better?" his father asks.

"No."

His father sighs and takes Lee's most injured hand, grimacing when he sees the swollen fingers. "How did you manage to give me a shiner using that hand?" he asks, more to himself than to Lee.

Lee shrugs, dizzy with endorphins and the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He's going to crash very soon and maybe, when he wakes up, he'll feel a little less raw, a little less like he lost everything and everyone, a little less like life isn't worth living anymore.

His father starts talking again and Lee forces his thoughts back on the moment. "You… I was worried…" His father fumbles for words and Lee is too tired to try to guess what he's getting at. "I'm glad you survived," his father eventually says, scowling, either chastising himself for having such a hard time saying the words, or for saying them at all.

Lee nods. "Yeah." He can't manage more than that, not even when his father puts an arm on his shoulders and guides him to the hatch.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Cottle rolls his eyes when he sees them both enter sickbay, bloodied and bruised, with Lee holding his injured hand cradled to his chest—and maybe his assessment of the damage was little understated, because the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks that these fingers are probably broken.

"The way you look, you probably won't even feel it," Cottle growls at Lee as he snaps his fingers back into place.

Lee feels it and clenches his teeth against the pain, then takes a sharp breath when it recedes, covered in cold sweat.

He closes his eyes as Cottle puts a hard splint over his fingers and his hand. "Come back tomorrow," the doctor orders, before starting to examine the two cuts on Lee's face and arm. He decides it's not worth stitching them, puts disinfectant on them and tells Lee not to open them again before they've had time to heal.

When he leaves, muttering about idiotic pilots with no common sense, Lee meets his father's amused gaze and fights down the urge to laugh, terrified that if he starts now, he'll never be able to stop.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Lee asks when his father fills his glass for the second time.

"I don't think it would take much, tonight," his father retorts.

Lee shrugs but doesn't argue the point, knowing it's certainly true. He was already about to collapse at the end of the battle and his time in the gym didn't help. There isn't one inch of his body that doesn't ache or sting in some way, his hand is throbbing like crazy, but he welcomes the pain, just as he welcomes the anger that's still simmering just under the surface.

If he wasn't so bruised already, he'd provoke Helo or Kara to a sparring match. Hell, the state he's in, he might even try to take on both of them, and get his ass kicked for his trouble.

They drink in silence for a while. Lee isn't surprised when his father starts talking again. "We'll have a ceremony tomorrow. To salute those we lost."

The declaration doesn't call for an answer and Lee doesn't offer any. After a while, he does ask, "What are you going to say?"

He looks up. His father is staring at his desk, his expression haunted. "I have no frakking idea." He gives a bitter, un-amused chuckle.

They take a swig of their drink at the same time.

"We received a radio transmission from the planet, but there was too much interference. It didn't go through, and we don't know what they were saying" his father says after a while. 

"Kara did say there were people down there," Lee replies. Before the Cylons came and made their planet another barren wasteland only they will be able to live on, banning the humans again.

"Yes."

"Did you… Did anyone on the planet try to escape?"

"No." His father sighs, meets his eyes. "It's possible they didn't have space capable ships."

Lee feels his stomach clench painfully at the thought of another civilization wiped out—one that had probably never heard about the Cylons or the Colonies, one that may not have understood what was happening at all.

He puts his glass back on the table and rubs his eyes, acutely aware of his father's worried eyes following his every more. Funny, ever since the trial, he and his father have avoided spending too much time in the same room. Lee got his commission back, but his father's words and his own actions weighed heavily on them. They never talked about it. They went about their business, keeping all their interactions strictly professional and ignoring the issue altogether, as they always do.

It took another biting defeat, another crisis, another fight against unbeatable odds, to get them talking again—and still not about anything personal.

The silence is getting heavier by the minute and Lee eventually hears his own voice breaking it. "It's our fault. We led the Cylons right to Earth."

His father nods, as if he was expecting that. "We had to try."

Lee snorts. "_Had_ to? Why?" It's not like they expected Earth to be able to defend them from the Cylons, is it? They were seeking shelter, but they never once stopped to think that if the Cylons found them, and there were people on Earth, there would be yet another few millions helpless people they wouldn't be able to defend. "What gives us the right to be saved?" Lee shakes his head, thinking about Gianne, Phelan, and the Olympic Carrier—the faces of the passengers still haunt his dreams, and will probably keep doing so for as long as he lives. He takes another swallow of his drink.

"I don't know," his father says with a sigh. "Maybe nothing. But there are children, _babies_ in the Fleet. They deserve a chance."

A chance they'll never get as long as the Cylons are after them. The machines won't stop until the humans are all dead—dead, or used as tools for reproduction in the Cylons farms.

A cold voice from the hatch startles him. "Which brings us back to the fact that we need to wipe out the Cylons."

Both he and his father make to stand up at the President's arrival and she gestures them down. "You've got more of that?" she asks, eyeing the bottle.

"What about your treatment?" Lee's father asks.

She shrugs. "One glass won't kill me." She smiles, a strange mixture of sadness and bitterness. "So…"

Lee's father hands her a glass, fills it to the brim. "Cheers," he says, and she chuckles.

They drink in silence for a while. It's only when the President has finished her glass that she speaks again. "We should give the virus another chance."

When neither Lee nor his father reply for a while, she adds, "I know it's extreme, but…"

"Preaching to the choir, ma'am," Lee says. She turns to him, surprised. He shrugs, too drunk to feel apologetic. "They'll never allow us to live in peace. And we can't just settle down anywhere as long as they're still out there. They outnumber us, we can't fight them down. I say we outsmart them."

"If we do this," his father says, "We won't really be an army again. Or a civilization for that matter."

"We're not a civilization anymore," Lee retorts. He wishes it wasn't so, wishes his words didn't echo the ones he spoke at Baltar's trial, but it has to be said. "We're survivors, and we won't survive much longer this way."

They're almost out of resources, their pilots' ranks dwindle a little more each month, as do the marines'.

They can't outgun the Cylons. They don't have the resources or the manpower to build more battlestars, they don't have many more potential Viper pilots on the Fleet. Hell, if the Galactica took too bad a hit, they wouldn't be able to repair her.

So what if their future generations have to live with the sins they commit? At least, they'll be alive. 

"What gives us the right to live?" his father asks, throwing his own question back at Lee.

Lee sighs, staring at the ceiling. Helo wasn't totally wrong. There won't be any coming back if they wipe out an entire race.

But.

The Cylons did bomb thirteen planets to bits, sparing no one, and are still relentlessly hunting down what few survivors of the human race are left.

"What gives them the right to exterminate us?" Lee replies.

His father nods, both in acknowledgement and in agreement. "Let's do it, then," he says, looking ten years older.

Lee thinks he should feel relieved that they're going to do _something_, that they'll fight to ensure their survival, but all he feels is like he just sold his soul, and that of his entire race.

He just hopes that in the end, the sacrifice will prove to be worthwhile. 

* * *

end


	3. Part 3

**Title** : Long Way Home

**Author** : Helen C.

**Rating **: PG

**Summary** : A series of four unrelated, AU ficlets, exploring possible ways for the Fleet to find Earth (with unfortunate results, most times). In other words, four ways the show won't deal with that particular storyline.

**Spoilers** : Everything aired so far is fair game.

**Disclaimer** : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**AN**. Many thanks to mick1997 for beta'ing this! As usual, I tinkered before posting; all remaining mistakes are mine. 

* * *

**Long Way Home**

Helen C.

Part Three

Two years after they've reached Earth, Lee and Kara have built themselves a home—not far from the ocean, close to the first settlement the humans established on the planet. The silence, only broken by the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, was such a welcome relief after all the fighting, the screaming and the explosions, that they didn't even argue about it.

New Caprica looked like what it was; a place where they settled because they were tired and didn't have the energy to push on at the time. The next best thing.

Earth…

Earth proved to be the real thing, at least for a while; their new chance at building a civilization, their new chance at living their lives happily.

Sometimes, Lee thinks about the darkest days of the war, about the night when Kara told him that neither of them would ever see Earth because they would be blown to pieces by a Cylon raider before they reached their goal, and he feels like it was all a bad dream that happened to someone else.

Then, he feels a twinge in his leg, where it was broken when his Viper crashed on the landing deck of the Galactica during the last Cylon attack, in Earth's solar system. It's usually enough to drive home the fact that it was real, that people—friends, family—died on their journey. And even more people were left behind, killed during the attacks on the Colonies or left to die (or worse) under Cylon occupation.

In the end, the last survivors of the Colonies finally managed to reach peace with the Cylons. The peace of the gun, sure—the negotiations took place while Cottle was trying to save Lee's leg, but he was told what happened once he got coherent enough to understand. The humans threatened to unleash the virus on the Cylons if they weren't left alone. The Cylons agreed that all things considered, maybe what little remained of humanity should be left in peace.

Lee suspects that the reason why the Cylons allowed the humans to stay on Earth without further interference is because they didn't find whatever they expected to find here. He knows his father shares his suspicions, as do Kara and Helo. They never talk about it; there's nothing they can do about it. Whatever the Cylons' reasons for leaving them alone, the important thing is that they _are_.

They have been at peace for two years now, and most of the civilians and the soldiers have welcomed the rest.

Of course, life on Earth is only a blessing because no one talks about the other reason why the Cylons left them alone and went back to colonial space.

The humans are a dying race.

They lost about a fourth of their remaining population to an epidemic during their first winter on Earth. Considering their numbers, the scientists claim that their gene pool isn't vast enough anymore to ensure the survival of their species. They can keep making babies anyway, but sooner or later, they'll die out.

There's no sign of the Thirteenth Tribe left on Earth.

There was some talk, in the beginning, of going farther away into space to try to find them, mingle with them, save what could still be saved. In the end, a popular vote decided against it. People were tired and not that interested in saving their civilization anymore.

There was no official surrender, no official concession that the Cylons won. The humans managed to keep Earth to themselves and they called it a victory but for all intents and purposes, they lost.

Arms wrap around his waist, derailing his thoughts, and he feels a breath on his neck. "Hey," he says.

"Do you just allow anyone to sneak up on you like that, Apollo?" Kara asks, laughter in her voice. Whatever happened to her while she was dead, she's a lot… happier, now. Lighter, as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She claims she doesn't remember what happened to her, and Lee doesn't push. He got Kara back, that's all that matters. In many ways, it's better, _safer_, not to know—better not to dwell on why and how Kara came back after her bird exploded.

"No." He turns to face her, smiling down at her, drinking in the sight of her face.

"Have you talked to your father?" she asks.

He sighs and steps away from her, reluctant to break the embrace. "Yes." He sits down on the sand, sees her mirroring his movements from the corner of his eye. "He agreed."

Her hand instinctively moves to her belly and she catches the movement and stops mid-stride. "I know it's a lot to ask."

He shrugs, eyes lost over the ocean. There are several continents over the planet and they established settlements over all the ones that are habitable. He wonders if elsewhere on this planet, other people are planning on doing the same thing they are, eventually. Surely, not everyone is happy with the status quo. "Where you go, I go." He inches his head towards her. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

She shakes her head. "We could stay. We don't even know for sure…"

"I don't care." He lies down on the warm sand, closing his eyes under the assault of the sun, savoring the warmth while he still can. "If there's a chance… We've got to try."

Many people wouldn't agree. In fact, many people would probably raise one hell of a fuss. They're flying under the Cylons' radar for now, but if they go out into space again, who knows what the Cylons will do?

Two years is a long time, though. Some of the most vocal opponents to leaving the safety of the planet have stopped making their voices heard. Maybe they haven't changed their minds yet, but they probably wouldn't be so intransigent anymore. Not that they're going to be asked for their opinion.

Lee hears a rustle of fabric, pictures Kara lying down next to him, mirroring his position before whispering, "I'll miss this."

_So will I,_ he thinks, but that's not true. He can live without a planet, without peace and without having an ocean nearby. He can't live without Kara. Not knowing what happened to her, missing the birth of their child, is simply not an option.

Besides…

Some part of him, the one that spent his adult life in the military, in battlestars, surrounded by Marines and other pilots, living to serve, misses space.

He can't fight anymore, not the way he used to (Cottle made it clear that he would never be able to fly again. Some days, even _walking_ can be a problem when he gets tired), but hopefully, he can still make himself useful on a battlestar.

He can't fight anymore but he can still be a good husband, and a good father, and a good son, and if that means living in space for the rest of his life, looking for a colony that may not even exist anymore, so be it.

It's not that he has grown restless on the planet. It's more that he can already feel that in a year or so, he'll be bored out of his skull and itching for a fight, for something to do.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you too," he replies.

They never fail to say these words now. Just in case.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Are you both sure you want to do this?" his father asks the next time they meet.

Lee nods. It's not like they haven't had this discussion countless times already, but he understands his father's need to ask. It's likely they're embarking on a one-way trip, leaving behind an almost-assured peaceful life raising a family, all in the vague hope that they'll be able to find a way to ensure the future of their whole civilization, and not just that of a few generations.

In a cave, near the settlement, Racetrack and Hotdog found some drawings—a map of constellations.

Maybe it's nothing.

Maybe it's something.

They'll need to check it out to know for sure.

"It's not the first time we've had to do something like this," he points out. "We had even less to go on, right after the attacks."

_Yet, we reached Earth._

"You're right."

_Are you sure you want to come with us?_ Lee wants to ask. But why would his father stay behind? Laura is dead, as is Tigh—the only two people, aside from Lee, who were close to him. Besides, the old man has always lived in space. On a planet, he's feeling useless. He's hiding it well, but Lee has seen the way he looks at the sky when he thinks no one can see him.

Like Lee, his father is itching for something else to do.

They fought for peace for so long, and now that they have it, they're not content with it and here they are, ready to go out and risk their lives again on a nearly hopeless cause.

His father wants to die commanding a battlestar, not living a retiree's life on a planet, among a people that's allowing itself to die. Everything in his nature is telling him that he needs to move on, that as long as he's standing still, he's dying.

Lee understands that.

He feels the same way.

"So, we're leaving tomorrow, then?" Lee asks.

Kara and his father nod, as do most of the people in the room—officers from the Pegasus and the Galactica, civilians who expressed their displeasure at the way things are.

His heart starts beating faster at the thought of finally doing _something_—anything but living here, in this paradise.

He'll be glad to be a soldier again, even if he can't fly.

Maybe Dee was right after all. Maybe he _is_ more like his father than he likes to admit (just not in the ways she thought he was).

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It'll be good to be back up there," his father says, later that night. They're sitting on the deserted beach, under the light of the stars and the planet's moon.

"Yes."

"You don't sound so convinced," his father says softly.

"I am, though." Lee shrugs. "I'm just not sure how useful I'll be. Considering."

Considering he can't pilot, can't go out with the grunts, can barely _run_ to save his life.

Damn Cylons anyway. If only they hadn't hit his Viper in that battle…

"I need an XO," his father says. "And you've always had a great tactical mind."

Lee stays silent for a while, hearing the implied apology in his father's words. Once upon a time, the only person his father trusted enough to be his XO was his best friend. "Are you sure we can work together that closely without murdering each other?" he asks, only half joking.

His father chuckles. "Why not? We've barely fought at all in the last year."

One step forward, two steps back has always been an apt description of their relationship, but Lee finds himself nodding in agreement. "Okay," he says. "Just don't expect me to always agree with you."

"And don't expect me not to kick your ass on a regular basis," his father replies, and that settles it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

They leave in the dead of the night, silently creeping to the shuttles. The Galactica is orbiting the planet's moon, waiting for them. They left notes behind, explaining why they left, promising to come back if they could, and if they found the Thirteenth Tribe.

They're a handful of people, manning a gigantic battlestar. The civilians among them are mostly pregnant women who want their children to have a future, and civilian pilots who miss space. Almost none of them have any experience with fighting.

All they have are a few vague clues.

And hope. 

* * *

end


	4. Part 4

**Title** : Long Way Home

**Author** : Helen C.

**Rating **: PG

**Summary** : A series of four unrelated, AU ficlets, exploring possible ways for the Fleet to find Earth (with unfortunate results, most times). In other words, four ways the show won't deal with that particular storyline.

**Spoilers** : Everything aired so far is fair game.

**Disclaimer** : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

**AN**. Many thanks to mick1997 for beta'ing this! As usual, I tinkered before posting; all remaining mistakes are mine.

**AN2**. Warning: character death (no, not Lee. Not Bill either.)

* * *

**Long Way Home**

Helen C.

Part Four

_Helo,_

In case this plan turns out to be as suicidally idiotic as I think it is, could you please make sure that my father gets this letter?

Lee Adama

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Look at us," Starbuck says, smiling almost challengingly under her helmet. "Apollo and Starbuck, out to save the human race again."

_As it should be,_ Lee thinks but doesn't say. He doesn't want to spend the next eight hours in close quarters with Kara, listening to her teasing him about his romanticizing.

"Let's go," he says, and it's all he can do not to strangle her when she mock-snaps a salute. The trip is going to be very long indeed.

His heart is beating wildly in his chest as he steps into the Raptor. It has been months since he last got into a flight suit, months since he flew, and he hadn't realized until now how much he missed it.

"You still remember how to fly these things?" Kara asks, as if catching his thoughts. The way life has been going recently, Lee wouldn't surprised if that was just the case.

"I need to push the green button, don't I?" he asks, trying to sound stupid and bratty at the same time.

She snorts and shakes her head as she takes the pilot seat. "If we crash this thing, it'll be on your head."

He recognizes the metallic taste of fear on his tongue when the hatch closes. What are their chances of coming back? "Apollo and Starbuck, crashing a bird?" he says, a little proud that his voice doesn't shake. "Never happen." 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
…_I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye, but let's face it, I've never been a very good liar. You would have known something was up…  
_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This is never, ever, going to work," Kara is chanting under her breath.

"I thought your plans never failed?" Lee says through gritted teeth, working hard to keep control of the Raptor they stole borrowed from the Galactica. "What happened to your everlasting optimism?"

She lets out a groan, then a biting, "It died with me, frakhead."

The harness keeps him strapped to his seat, anchoring him when nothing around him stays stable for more than a second. The hull is shaking with the stress of the entry into the atmosphere, the instruments are going crazy, and Lee doesn't see what else they can do; they used all their tricks and nothing works.

"I'm losing her," Kara yells, her tone frightened for the first time since they embarked on this ridiculous, self-appointed mission.

Lee's almost sorry he came, except for all the ways in which he's not.

"Apollo!" she calls.

"Trying," he shoots back, but he can tell they lost the battle a while ago.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…_Kara has a plan and I think we need to try it…  
_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"If we don't—" Lee starts just as their last thruster dies.

"Shut up and help me," she yells, and he does, thinking, _Okay, so this _was _a bad idea._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…_if all goes according to plan, we'll see each other on Earth… _

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The world has stopped spinning and Lee tries to catch his breath, dizzy from the descent and the crash.

"Kara?"

Her voice is weak when she replies, "Yeah?"

He turns his head to her and sees it—the piece of shrapnel caught in her abdomen, pinning her to the seat.

She's grimacing and chuckling at the same time. "Wow, that was something," she says, and he wants to yell at her to shut up, keep quiet and let him help, but his voice doesn't work.

"It's okay," she says. "I always knew it wouldn't last long." She smiles at him. "I died, Lee. It's not like anyone can cheat death for very long."

_You did, _he thinks. _You did, time and time again, every time you climbed into that Viper._

Don't give up now.

"It's okay," she repeats. "It's okay."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…_it took some… convincing to get Baltar to help us, as you can imagine…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The virus seems to have worked—which is both horrifying and strangely comforting, because damn it, after years of playing hide and seek with the damn toasters, Lee was more than ready for a victory.

"Holy frak," Kara groans as she tries to shift in her seat.

"Don't move," Lee says. He wants to scream—being so close to her and not being to help is driving him insane.

"How are your legs?" Kara asks, eyes closed.

"Still can't feel them." Which might mean anything, from simple lack of blood circulation from the way they're trapped to spinal injury.

She swallows audibly. "Well, at least, we made it."

"Yeah. We made it."

Of course, not everything went according to plan. When they left on this little adventure to check that the Cylons were dead, they hit a pocket of resistance. The Cylons were obviously dying, but they were still alive enough to damage the Raptor.

Still, Lee and Kara were almost lucky. They jumped to Earth (and Kara was right; it's beautiful, seen from orbit). They survived the crash. Now, it's all a matter of waiting for the cavalry.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…_Tyrol and Sam volunteered when Kara talked to them…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Think they'll be here soon?" Kara asks, eyes closed.

"I hope so." _They better hurry. I can't lose you again. _

She reaches over, pats his arm.

"Look at the sky," she breathes. "It's amazing."

"Yeah." Lee raises his head enough to see the blue sky and the clouds softly drifting their way up north. "Yeah, it is."

He takes hold of her hand and doesn't let go. He got rid of the gloves at some point (maybe it should worry him that he doesn't remember clearly doing so, but he's past caring), and her skin is cold against his.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…_in case all doesn't go according to plan, it's been an honor serving with you, Dad…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Lee sees the first Raptor landing, not far from where he and Kara crashed.

"It worked," he tells Kara.

She doesn't reply.

Of course, she doesn't reply.

It seems like a long time passes before Helo and Hotdog get near enough that he can recognize them, and Lee wishes they'd hurry up, wishes they'd never get here, wishes he could do something, anything but sit here, trapped.

"They're here," he says.

Kara's fingers are still cold but he doesn't want to let go of her hand. 

"It worked," he repeats. "You were right." _There, I said it. Enjoy it. You were right. Kara Thrace was right. You always enjoyed boasting._

Then, he closes his eyes against the burn, swallows painfully and waits.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…_your son, Lee…_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"It was the final five," Lee tells his father, once they're alone in sickbay. Cottle has just spent twenty minutes telling Lee everything that's wrong with him, but it all boils down to the fact that he was lucky and he'll walk again, eventually.

Lee knows he should be more freaked out than he is—he still can't feel his legs or his back and he knows it'll probably hurt like hell when he does—but he can't summon the energy for anything.

The Fleet reached Earth jut fine, Baltar's virus got rid of the Cylons just fine, Kara's plan worked just fine and Lee wonders if maybe, now wouldn't be a good time to give up the fight and _die_, and join her and Zak and the rest of the Colonies. Damn, but losing her this time hurts even more than the first time, and he wouldn't have thought it was possible.

His father nods in silence, encouraging him to continue.

"Well, two of them." Lee looks down at his hands. They're cold; they've been cold ever since he let go of Kara. "Anders and Tyrol." He takes a breath. "I've never known all the specifics. It was Kara's thing. It was too dangerous for me to know." _I didn't want to know. _"They went back to the Cylons."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his father start. The two disappearances have caused a lot of speculation on the Fleet and Lee knows his father appointed Tigh to look into it back then.

"With the virus," Lee adds.

His father still isn't talking, and Lee closes his eyes, feeling sick.

He didn't want things to come to that, but they didn't have a choice; they couldn't see any other way to get rid of the enemy.

_Nobody_ could see another way to get rid of the enemy.

Tyrol and Anders were adamant they wanted to do it.

Lee wonders if Kara stopped sleeping after sending them on this mission. Gods know Lee did, once he learned what happened to them.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_Lee is staring at the sky—it's clear, with only a few white clouds here and there, their forms neatly defined against the blue. The sun is shining, they're in a valley and he can see mountains in the distance. He can see ice caps on some of them._

It's almost like paradise.

"Lee? When I die—"

"You're not going to—"

"Shut up and listen. When I die, you're not going to do anything stupid, are you?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"According to the first surveys, we'll be able to build the first settlement a few miles from here," the President says, gesturing to the East. They're not far from where Lee and Kara's Raptor crashed—not far from where Kara is buried.

"Good," Lee's father says.

"Closer to the water, but not close enough that we'll need to worry about heavy rains causing floods. If there are heavy rains here."

Lee's father, every bit the efficient commander, totally in control, nods as he studies his surroundings before turning to face the President. Lee knows he read the reports several times over, and couldn't find anything wrong with the plan. This won't be a redo of New Caprica. This time, they're here to stay. This time, the Cylons won't catch them unaware and force them to flee again.

His father's next words bring him back to the present. "I'll stay in charge of the military for another year. Long enough to make sure there aren't any nasty surprises waiting for us." He looks at Lee, then back at the President. "Then, someone else will have to take charge."

She looks surprised, but not as much as Lee feels. "You're resigning?"

He smiles wryly. "I retired over three years ago," he replies.

_And since then, you lost your kind-of-daughter,_ Lee adds inwardly.

"It's high time," his father says but Lee isn't listening anymore.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_"Promise me you'll live."_

"You're not going to die."

_"Promise me. Lee? __Promise me."_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He can see some of the burn marks the crash left on the ground and he stares at them, mesmerized. They're the only scar left over by Kara's death, the only sign that she's buried nearby and not flying her Viper somewhere in orbit, driving everyone in CIC crazy with her banter and her insults to all the other pilots.

"Lee?"

_Promise me._

He shakes off his thoughts when he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

"Son. Let's go."

Lee follows his father without a word, his legs and back still stiff from the after-effects of the crash.

He doesn't want to stay on this gorgeous planet.

He doesn't want to enjoy the beauty all around him, doesn't want the sun or the happy ending. Doesn't want to be reminded of Kara every time he looks up at the sky.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_"At least, this time, we'll get time for a goodbye, won't we?"_

"I didn't know death had turned you mushy."

"Gods, you really are the worst asshole ever."

"Are you trying to flatter me?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two months after the Fleet reached Earth, all the civilians and most of the military have gone to the planet and found a place to live on the temporary settlement.

The Galactica is the only ship that still remains in orbit. His father hasn't shown any sign of planning on going down to Earth with the crew and Lee hasn't asked what the long term plan is.

He doesn't care, just as long as he can stay up here, away from the planet.

"You should have told me," his father says. It's the first time they've been alone since the civilians started to go down to the planet, the first few moments of free time they've been able to catch—a respite from the reports to read, the shuttles to pilot, the temporary infrastructures to build on the planet.

Lee knew this conversation was coming—he has been avoiding his father for weeks, hoping against hope that this moment would never come. He looks up from the report he was pretending to read, rubbing his eyes. It's almost surprising how raw the wound still feels, how deep it runs.

He can't think about anything else, day and night, and he's so tired of being in pain, so tired to trying to keep it together. He just wants life to stop. It may be weak, it may make him a coward, but after everything that happened, he doesn't think it's that much to ask.

"About Kara," his father adds.

Lee doesn't want to talk about Kara, about her death, about how her absence makes him feel like a piece of himself has been torn out. He doesn't want to talk about anything.

"Lee, you need to talk to someone. If it's not me, go to someone else, but you can't keep going like this."

Lee almost snorts. Just because he hasn't been able to eat a full meal in what feels like years, just because he can't sleep for more than two hours in a stretch, just because he looks like hell and snaps at anyone who dares talk to him, doesn't mean he wants to have a heart-to-heart with his old man.

His father is waiting for him to say something and Lee sighs, weary beyond words. "What should I have told you?" he asks. "That your CAG was frakking one of his pilots, or that your son was frakking his brother's ex fiancée?"

"That you loved her."

The words are like so many punches to the gut, and Lee finds himself physically recoiling, trying not to hurl at his father's feet.

"Lee—"

"Don't," he pleads. He doesn't want compassion, understanding or pity.

He doesn't want anything anymore.

_Promise me.  
_  
His father's hand comes to rest on his forearm and the touch _hurts_. When's the last time anyone tried to touch him, reach out to him, offer him comfort?

"Don't," he repeats, his voice reduced to a strained whisper.

His father ignores him, squeezes his arm tighter while Lee blinks and breathes in and hopes that he's not going to start crying—not here, not in front of this man, not ever.

He can hear her voice again through the pain, teasing him. _Magnificent bastard._

His sob is so harsh it hurts and Lee curls up on himself, head hanging low, arms wrapped around his midsection, fists clenched. His father has let go of him but Lee can feel him hovering nearby.

He closes his eyes and tries to think about nothing—and certainly not her smile, her competitive streak, the way she drove him mad, the way she knew exactly which buttons to push to exasperate him, how much he loved her, how much her absence hurts.

_Promise me._

It takes him a long while to get himself under control, and even longer to raise his head and meet his father's gaze. When he finally does, his father hands him a glass of water and sits next to him.

_Promise me._

He remembers her last breath and the terrifying moment that followed. The pain when he understood that it was over. How he took hold of the gun strapped to his thigh. How the only thing that held him back was the promise she had forced him to give.

_I can't, Dad. Can't get over it, can't go on living. I just can't._

"Lee..." His father trails off.

_Gods it hurts._

His father's hand comes to rest on his shoulder and Lee doesn't have the energy to shrug it off and walk out, doesn't have the energy to pretend that he'll be fine given time, that he feels even remotely capable of dealing with this loss.

_I miss her. _

They stay silent for a long time and it dawns on Lee how out of character it is for his father to actually make the first step, try to talk to him about something—especially when losing Kara must have hurt him as much as it did Lee.

_Damn it, Kara. _

"I miss her too," his father says at last.

"I know." Lee just wishes that sharing this pain would lessen it somewhat, but it's not the case. He doesn't think anything ever will make things easier, but he promised. _And you knew I keep my promises, didn't you, Kara? You knew just how to manipulate me into going on. Frak you._

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_"You meant it, right? When you promised?"_

"Yeah. Yes, I meant it."

"Good. Don't make me come back to kick your ass."

"Oh, wouldn't want that."

"Yes, you would."

"Yes. I would." Gods, I would.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Twelve months, to the day, after the Fleet reached Earth, Lee's father orders the remaining crew to leave the Galactica and go down to the planet. The ship remains in orbit, all systems shut down. Just in case.

She served the humans well, Lee thinks when he steps on the planet for the first time in months. By all rights, she shouldn't have been able to go so far, to fight so well.

Laura is waiting for them, smiling, eager to lead them to the settlement, eager to show them everything they have accomplished so far. Lee gestures at the crew to go with her, spotting the concern that flashes briefly in his father's eyes before they focus on the President again. No one comments when he heads in the direction of the crash, though.

The grass that was torn and burned when the Raptor impacted with the ground has grown back and Lee absently crouches down, cutting down a few strands. He rubs them between his fingers, enjoying the scent of them, the feeling on his skin.

The sky is just as blue as the day Kara died. He wonders if she would have adapted to life on Earth, if she would have dealt well with staying on the planet, or if she would have missed flying too much.

He wonders what she would be like now, after a year of peace.

He stays there long enough for his legs to grow stiff, long enough for the sun to change position. He doesn't feel like moving anymore. It's only when he sees a shadow fall to the ground that he realizes how much time has passed. "Lee?"

"Yeah." He stands up with difficulty, lets go of the grass, wipes his hand on his pants before turning to his father, who's looking at him with naked concern. "So, have you found a place to live, yet?" he asks to forestall any question.

His father shakes his head. "Not yet. I'm thinking it's been a while since I went hiking." He gestures at the mountains on the horizon. "According to Hotdog, there are good spots to camp up there. He's heading back with a couple of others, in a few days." He turns, meets Lee's eyes. "If you want to come…"

_Promise me you'll live._

He heaves out a breath, taking one last look around before facing his father. Hiking sounds almost like heaven after months of living on the Galactica. "Yes, sure," he says, and he doesn't miss the relief on his father's face.

Together they leave the silent place behind and head to the settlement, making plans for the future. 

* * *

end


End file.
